The Wave Poem by Santhanagopalan Vasudevan

Wish I could cry
Over all my
Troubles so I
Could bid them goodbye.

Drops of tear
When they are shed
Things become clear
Within my head.

But, I'm young no more
Like I was before
To cry over all
Things, big or small.

I'm neither old
Enough, or bold
Or used to the world
To be calm and cold
When troubles unfold.

Maybe it's so
That I just don't know
How it's expressed
The way I'm depressed.

It's all because
That things don't go on
The way I would want
That I feel a loss.

This wave of life
Is a way of life
Of highs and lows,
Of hills and slopes.

When in the low
For its end I long
And when in the high,
For it to prolong.

Be it the tide
That's high or low,
How long it lasts
No one would know.

But neither tide
Is here to stay.
Better, the ride
It makes, everyday.